"Ye turn to Heaven for aid in your distress;
Alas, that ye, though mighty and the wise,
Who, if ye dared, might not aspire to less
Than ye conceive of power, should fear the lies
Which thou, and thou, didst frame for mysteries
To blind your slaves-consider your own thought,
An empty and a cruel sacrifice

Ye now prepare, for a vain idol wrought

stirr'd.

brought.

XVII.

"Ye seek for happiness-alas, the day! Ye find it not in luxury nor in gold, Nor in the fame, nor in the envied sway For which, O willing slaves to Custom old! Severe task-mistress! ye your hearts have sold. Ye seek for peace, and when ye die, to dream No evil dreams: all mortal things are cold And senseless then; if aught survive, I deem It must be love and joy, for they immortal seem.

XVIII.

"Fear not the future, weep not for the past.
O, could I win your ears to dare be now
Glorious, and great, and calm! that ye would cast
Into the dust those symbols of your woe,
Purple, and gold, and steel! that ye would go
Proclaiming to the nations whence ye came,
That Want, and Plague, and Fear, from slavery
flow;

And that mankind is free, and that the shame
Of royalty and faith is lost in freedom's fame.

XIX.

"If thus, 'tis well-if not, I come to say That Laon"-while the Stranger spoke, among The Council sudden tumult and affray Arose, for many of those warriors young Had on his eloquent accents fed and hung Like bees on mountain-flowers; they knew the truth,

And from their thrones in vindication sprung; The men of faith and law then without ruth Drew forth their secret steel, and stabb'd each ardent youth.

XX.

They stabb'd them in the back and sneer'd—a slave Who stood behind the throne, those corpses drew Each to its bloody, dark, and secret grave; And one more daring raised his steel anew To pierce the Stranger: "What hast thou to do With me, poor wretch ?"-Calm, solemn, and severe, That voice unstrung his sinews, and he threw His dagger on the ground, and pale with fear, Sate silently-his voice then did the Stranger rear.

"With me do what ye will. I am your foe!"
The light of such a joy as makes the stare
Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow,
Shone in a hundred human eyes-" Where, where
Is Laon? haste! fly! drag him swiftly here!
We grant thy boon."-"I put no trust in ye
Swear by the Power ye dread."-" We swear, we
swear!"

The Stranger threw his vest back suddenly,
And smiled in gentle pride, and said, "Lo! I am he!"

CANTO XII.

1.

THE transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness Spread through the multitudinous streets, fast flying Upon the wings of fear; from his dull madness The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying, Among the corpses in stark agony lying,

Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope Closed their faint eyes; from house to house replying With loud acclaim, the living shook Heaven's cope. And fill'd the startled Earth with echoes: morn did ope

II.

Its pale eyes then; and lo! the long array
Of guards in golden arms, and priests beside,
Singing their bloody hymns, whose garbs betray
The blackness of the faith it seems to hide;
And see, the tyrant's gem-wrought chariot glide
Among the gloomy cowls and glittering spears-
A shape of light is sitting by his side,

A child most beautiful. I' the midst appears Laon,-exempt alone from mortal hopes and fears.

III.

His head and feet are bare, his hands are bound Behind with heavy chains, yet none do wreak Their scoffs on him, though myriads throng around; There are no sneers upon his lip, which speak That scorn or hate hath made him bold; his cheek Resolve has not turn'd pale,—his eyes are mild And calm, and like the morn about to break Smile on mankind-his heart seems reconciled To all things and itself, like a reposing child.

IV.

Tumult was in the soul of all beside, Ill joy, or doubt, or fear; but those who saw Their tranquil victim pass, felt wonder glide Into their brain, and became calm with awe. See, the slow pageant near the pile doth draw. A thousand torches in the spacious square, Borne by the ready slaves of ruthless law, Await the signal round: the morning fair Is changed to a dim night by that unnatural glare.

V.

And see! beneath a sun-bright canopy, Upon a platform level with the pile, The anxious Tyrant sit, enthroned on high, Girt by the chieftains of the host; all smile In expectation, but one child: the while I, Laon, led by mutes, ascend my bier Of fire, and look around; each distant isle Is dark in the bright dawn; towers far and near Pierce like reposing flames the tremulous atmosphere

XVIII.

The warm touch of a soft and tremulous hand
Waken'd me then; lo, Cythna sate reclined
Beside me, on the waved and golden sand
Of a clear pool, upon a bank o'ertwined
With strange and star-bright flowers, which to the
wind

Breathed divine odor; high above, was spread The emerald heaven of trees of unknown kind, Whose moonlike blooms and bright fruit overhead A shadow, which was light, upon the waters shed.

XIX.

And round about sloped many a lawny mountain
With incense-bearing forests, and vast caves.
Of marble radiance to that mighty fountain;
And where the flood its own bright margin laves,
Their echoes talk with its eternal waves,
Which, from the depths whose jagged caverns
breed

Their unreposing strife, it lifts and heaves,-
Till through a chasm of hills they roll, and feed
A river deep, which flies with smooth but arrowy
speed.

XX.

As we sate gazing in a trance of wonder, A boat approach'd, borne by the musical air Along the waves which sung and sparkled under Its rapid keel-a winged shape sate there, A child with silver-shining wings, so fair, That as her bark did through the waters glide, The shadow of the lingering waves did wear Light, as from starry beams; from side to side, While veering to the wind, her plumes the bark did guide.

XXI.

The boat was one curved shell of hollow pearl,
Almost translucent with the light divine
Of her within; the prow and stern did curl
Horned on high, like the young moon supine,
When o'er dim twilight mountains dark with pine,
It floats upon the sunset's sea of beams,
Whose golden waves in many a purple line
Fade fast, till borne on sunlight's ebbing streams,

XXIV.

Then the bright child, the plumed Seraph came, And fix'd its blue and beaming eyes on mine, And said, "I was disturb'd by tremulous shame When once we met, yet knew that I was thine From the same hour in which thy lips divine Kindled a clinging dream within my brain, Which ever waked when I might sleep, to twine Thine image with her memory dear—again We meet, exempted now from mortal fear or pain.

XXV.

"When the consuming flames had wrapt ye round,
The hope which I had cherish'd went away;
I fell in agony on the senseless ground,
And hid mine eyes in dust, and far astray
My mind was gone, when bright, like dawning

day,

The Spectre of the Plague before me flew, And breathed upon my lips, and seem'd to say, 'They wait for thee, beloved ;'-then I knew The death-mark on my breast, and became calm anew.

XXVI.

"It was the calm of love-for I was dying. I saw the black and half-extinguish'd pyre In its own gray and shrunken ashes lying; The pitchy smoke of the departed fire Still hung in many a hollow dome and spire Above the towers like night; beneath whose shade Awed by the ending of their own desire The armies stood; a vacancy was made In expectation's depth, and so they stood dismay'd.

XXVII.

"The frightful silence of that alter'd mood,
The tortures of the dying clove alone,
Till one uprose among the multitude,
And said- The flood of time is rolling on,
We stand upon its brink, whilst they are gone
To glide in peace down death's mysterious stream.
Have ye done well? they moulder flesh and bone.
Who might have made this life's envenom'd dream

Ay, ye may fear not now the Pestilence, From fabled hell as by a charm withdrawn, All power and faith must pass, since calmly hence In pain and fire have unbelievers gone; And ye must sadly turn away, and moan In secret, to his home each one returning, And to long ages shall this hour be known; And slowly shall its memory, ever burning, Fill this dark night of things with an eternal morning.

XXX. "For me the world is grown too void and cold, Since hope pursues immortal destiny

With steps thus slow-therefore shall ye behold How those who love, yet fear not, dare to die; Tell to your children this! then suddenly He sheathed a dagger in his heart, and fell; My brain grew dark in death, and yet to me There came a murmur from the crowd, to tell Of deep and mighty change which suddenly befell.

XXXI.

"Then suddenly I stood a winged Thought
Before the immortal Senate, and the seat
Of that star-shining spirit, whence is wrought
The strength of its dominion, good and great,
The better Genius of this world's estate.
His realm around one mighty Fane is spread,
Elysian islands bright and fortunate,

Calm dwellings of the free and happy dead,
Where I am sent to lead!" these winged words she said,

XXXII.

And with the silence of her eloquent smile, Bade us embark in her divine canoe; Then at the helm we took our seat, the while Above her head those plumes of dazzling hue Into the winds' invisible stream she threw, Sitting beside the prow: like gossamer, On the swift breath of morn, the vessel flew O'er the bright whirlpools of that fountain fair, Whose shores receded fast, whilst we seem'd lingering there;

XXXIII.

Till down that mighty stream dark, calm, and fleet, Between a chasm of cedar mountains riven, Chased by the thronging winds whose viewless feet As swift as twinkling beams, had, under Heaven, From woods and waves wild sounds and odors driven, The boat fled visibly-three nights and days, Borne like a cloud through morn, and noon, and even, We sail'd along the winding watery ways Of the vast stream, a long and labyrinthine maze.

XXXIV.

A scene of joy and wonder to behold

That river's shapes and shadows changing ever, Where the broad sunrise, fill'd with deepening gold, Its whirlpools, where all hues did spread and quiver, And where melodious falls did burst and shiver Among rocks clad with flowers, the foam and spray Sparkled like stars upon the sunny river, Or when the moonlight pour'd a holier day, One vast and glittering lake around green islands lay.

XXXV.

Morn, noon, and even, that boat of pearl outran
The streams which bore it, like the arrowy cloud
Of tempest, or the speedier thought of man,
Which flieth forth and cannot make abode.
Sometimes through forests, deep like night, we glode,
Between the walls of mighty mountains crown'd
With Cyclopean piles, whose turrets proud,
The homes of the departed, dimly frown'd

XXXVI.

Sometimes between the wide and flowering

meadows,

Mile after mile we sail'd, and 'twas delight To see far off the sunbeams chase the shadows Over the grass; sometimes beneath the night Of wide and vaulted caves, whose roofs were bright With starry gems, we fled, whilst from their deep And dark-green chasms, shades beautiful and white, Amid sweet sounds across our path would sweep, Like swift and lovely dreams that walk the waves of sleep.

XXXVII.

And ever as we sail'd, our minds were full Of love and wisdom, which would overflow In converse wild, and sweet, and wonderful; And in quick smiles whose light would come and go, Like music o'er wide waves, and in the flow Of sudden tears, and in the mute caressFor a deep shade was cleft, and we did know, That virtue, though obscured on Earth, not less Survives all mortal change in lasting loveliness.

XXXVIII.

Three days and nights we sail'd, as thought and feeling

Number delightful hours-for through the sky The sphered lamps of day and night, revealing New changes and new glories, roll'd on high, Sun, Moon, and moonlike lamps, the progeny Of a diviner Heaven, serene and fair: On the fourth day, wild as a wind-wrought sea The stream became, and fast and faster bare The spirit-winged boat, steadily speeding there.

XXXIX.

Steadily and swift, where the waves roll'd like mountains

Within the vast ravine, whose rifts did pour Tumultuous floods from their ten thousand fountains, The thunder of whose earth-uplifting roar Made the air sweep in whirlwinds from the shore, Calm as a shade, the boat of that fair child Securely fled, that rapid stress before, Amid the topmost spray, and sunbows wild, Wreathed in the silver mist: in joy and pride we smiled.

XL.

The torrent of that wide and raging river Is past, and our aerial speed suspended. We look behind; a golden mist did quiver When its wild surges with the lake were blended: Our bark hung there, as one line suspended Between two Heavens, that windless waveless lake; Which four great cataracts from four vales, attended By mists, aye feed; from rocks and clouds they break, And of that azure sea a silent refuge make.

XLI.

Motionless resting on the lake awhile,

I saw its marge of snow-bright mountains rear
Their peaks aloft, I saw each radiant isle,
And in the midst, afar, even like a sphere
Hung in one hollow sky, did there appear
The Temple of the Spirit; on the sound
Which issued thence, drawn nearer and more near,
Like the swift moon this glorious earth around,